


A Day In the Life of Portrait Snape

by phandomoftheowl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-07
Updated: 2012-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-30 18:56:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phandomoftheowl/pseuds/phandomoftheowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape is a portrait. Has been since a month after he died and Harry pushed the Board of Governors for his portrait. For the last nineteen years, Snape has spent September second in relative boredom in the headmistress' office. Until Albus Potter shows up. (And demonstrates his innate ability to annoy Snape. Those damn green eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day In the Life of Portrait Snape

**Author's Note:**

> A Day In the Life of Portrait Snape. (Aka...The Day Severus Found Out Potter Named a Brat After Him.)

Being a portrait was awfully dull. Being a portrait on the second day of term even more so, Severus Snape decided.

 

The brats of the school always tended to cause havoc on September second, so Minerva was always out of the office, leaving the portraits with nothing better to do than chatter incessantly. Severus wished he felt the urge to sleep, but he was a painting, and there was only so much dozing he could accomplish.

 

Nineteen years on canvas and he still wished he wasn't here.

 

Stupid Potter and his bloody gratefulness. Severus wouldn't even be stuck on this wall if it hadn't been for his insistence. And Severus would have been happy, thank you very much.

 

There was a click and all the other portraits feigned sleep immediately, as did Severus. It was not Minerva. The portraits would have known. Besides, these footsteps were lighter and unaccompanied by a walking staff.

 

A student, then. The student was muttering angrily under his breath. Severus was just contemplating whether or not to peer at the student through his eyelashes when the brat spoke.

 

“You're Severus Snape.”

 

_No_ _shit._

 

Severus knew all the heads were staring at the student now, all signs of fake slumber gone. Severus took his time pretending to come out of his nap. When he did finally open his eyes, his entire world tilted.

 

Severus thought he had been transported back in time. But before the idea could fully form, he knew that was impossible.

 

One: He was still on a wall.

 

Two: He was still essentially oil paint.

 

Three: He was still dead.

 

And yet those eyes, those blasted eyes were staring at him. _Again._ This time, they were twinkling curiously. Snape was never sure what to say when confronted with those eyes. With Potter, he had managed by feigned hatred. But this wasn't Potter's face. At least, not the Potter he knew and died for.

 

Severus' eyes took in the rest of the boy's face. Yes, the ridiculous hair was still there, as was the chin, and nose, and jaw.

 

“My dad told me about you.”

 

Severus summoned his best sneer. “Did he now?”

 

Instead of cowering, the boy grinned – _grinned!_ “He said you'd do that too.” 

 

Severus blinked, momentarily befuddled. Albus Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. Severus shot the old man his best glare.

 

The boy gave the wizened ex-headmaster a slight nod.“Professor Dumbledore, hello.” Then turned back to Severus. “He also said you wouldn't like me much, but that as long as I kept out of the headmistress' office, I needn't worry.”

 

“I see you've followed his advice,” Severus drawled. 

 

The Potter Brat's grin faltered for a second. “This is James' fault. He just kept going on and  _on_ about the Sorting.”

 

Severus was dearly at a loss for words. No Potter had ever managed to unnerve him as much as this one. Then again, no Potter had ever looked at him with anything other than hatred and contempt. “Ah.” Severus wanted to tell him to shut up, and that his trivial life meant very little to Severus.

 

The boy wasn't listening. “Scorpius told him to shove off, but he wouldn't listen. So him, me, and Adrian Zabini jinxed James and his friends. Mum's Bat Bogey was really useful. They're all in the hospital wing right now. I got lucky. Professor McGonagall is with them right now. She sent me to her office.”

 

“Zabini? Malfoy?” Severus asked confusedly. Why would the Brat be talking to them? 

 

The grin was back in place when he answered, “My friends.” Why must he grin so much? Those bright eyes turned even brighter when he grinned.

 

Severus thought he might faint from shock. A Potter friends with a Zabini and a Malfoy?

 

The Brat looked around the office as he spoke. “But they got what they deserved. Not Scorpius and Zabini of course. James and his friends. They way they kept going on about Slytherin, you'd think I was the second coming of Voldemort.” He didn't notice Severus' grimace. “Hey! This is the Sword! Gryffindor's sword!  _You_ gave it to my dad, didn't you? When they were on the run?”

 

If Severus had to hear one more word about 'my dad', he would find a way to throttle the boy.

 

“Slytherin, did you say?” Albus Dumbledore asked. 

 

“My house.” 

 

Yes, Severus would love to faint right about now.

 

“Well well, a Slytherin for the first time in Potter history. How does Potter feel about that?” 

 

The Brat turned to look at Severus again and shrugged. He wished he wouldn't. He hated looking into those eyes now. “He doesn't care. Says he's proud of me. And I'm not the first Potter to be in Slytherin. Wilma Potter was a Slytherin born in 1692. She married Quintus Malfoy. Both of them died in the witch hunts. Although, no one since her has been in Slytherin. Rose helped me research over the summer when James wouldn't let up about it.” This James brat sounded more and more like the original, Severus thought. “She said it's impossible for  _someone_ to not have been Sorted into Slytherin. And the Hat was going to put Dad in there too, so I'm not the first one.” The green eyes blazed defiantly. 

 

Severus could only blink. He was finding himself speechless quite often in the first year's company.

 

“Although Uncle Ron is going to throw a fit equaling what my mother calls 'The Day Albus Was Named Fit'.” 

 

Severus glanced at Dumbledore curiously. He was certain Ron Weasley had not been present for the old man's Christening. “Albus?”

 

The Brat followed his gaze, and smiled at the late headmaster. “My name. But that's not why Uncle Ron had a fit,” he hastened to reassure. “It was because of my middle name.” He glanced furtively at Severus.

 

Severus gazed down disdainfully. “And why is that?”

 

But before the Brat could answer, the fire flared green, and the older version of the Brat stumbled out.

 

“Dad!” 

 

“Al, what happened? Where's James?” 

 

Suddenly, the Brat looked sheepish, all traces of the grin gone. “Er...hospital wing? But it wasn't my fault!” he added at his father's stern gaze. “James was being an arse about the Sorting, and then started saying crap about Scorpius and Adrian, and then...well, dunno what happened, really.”

 

Potter's lips twitched, but the stern expression was back quickly. “What did I tell you about not dueling until you've learned how? Or letting James wind you up? By the way, what jink did you use?”

 

“Bat-Bogey,” the Brat replied smugly. “It improves him, I promise.” Potter full out grinned. 

 

Severus huffed disapprovingly. Potter seemed to hear. He turned to Severus with a polite smile.

 

“Hello Professor, Professor Dumbledore.” 

 

“Potter,” Severus sneered once more just as Dumbledore announced, “Harry, my boy. How marvelous to see you.” 

 

The Brat snickered. Potter looked at him questioningly.

 

“Congratulations Potter. You've produced a Mini You.” Snape sniffed disdainfully. 

 

“Not really. Dad was a Gryffindor. I'm in Slytherin,” The Brat pointed out. 

 

“You've just proved my point, Brat.” Although Severus really didn't know how. It just felt like the right thing to say. 

 

Potter groaned and ran a hand over his face. “And what did I tell you about staying out of the headmistress' office?”

 

“You never said he doesn't know about my name.” 

 

If Severus didn't know any better, he would Potter looked almost panic stricken. “Er right. Al, your mother will be here shortly. And she expects me to-”

 

“ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER!” Severus thought he might die all over again. Albus _Severus_ Potter? 

 

“Potter.” 

 

Husband and son turned somewhat fearfully to the Floo as Ginny Weasley's- Potter, now, he supposed- form came into the room thoroughly ignoring the ex-Potions Master.

 

“He he...hi Mum!” 

 

“Potter!” 

 

“Don't you dare 'hi Mum' me! Second day. Second day! What did I tell you about getting into trouble with your brother?” 

 

“ _Potter.”_

 

“He started it! And besides, I didn't ever throw the first jinx. It was Scorpius.” 

 

“I don't _care_ who started it! You shouldn't have drawn your wand against your brother, even if he did provoke you! And what was this spell anyway?” 

 

“Bat-Bogey Hex.” Ginny Weasley looked at him with something akin to pride. Severus didn't care. 

 

“POTTER!” 

 

All three Potters jumped.

 

“SEVERUS?” 

 

Potter gave a nervous chuckle, mumbled something about checking on his other son and all but sprinted out of the Headmistress' office with Ginny Weasley trailing after with “Honestly, Harry!”

 

The Brat had the audacity to grin cheekily with those smug green eyes. “And you wonder why Uncle Ron had a fit.”

 

Albus Dumbledore chuckled. Severus wished he could break the old man's crooked nose all over again.

 

Stupid Potter and his bloody gratefulness.


End file.
